


Impasse

by Souliebird



Category: Batman (Comics), Batman - All Media Types, DCU, Red Robin (Comics)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Angst, Dark, Death, Gen, Passively Suicidal Tim Drake
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-03-06
Updated: 2016-03-06
Packaged: 2018-05-25 01:38:05
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 793
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6175120
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Souliebird/pseuds/Souliebird
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tim doesn't see it coming, which is bittersweet, he thinks, as he crumbles to the ground.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Impasse

Tim doesn't see it coming, which is bittersweet, he thinks, as he crumbles to the ground. It is just another thing he has messed up. He wonders if Fate is being cruel on purpose or if the sniper that must be across the street isn't good enough to get in a clean head shot. He decides on the former, because if he is dying, he might as well be selfish. 

He doesn't move after he's fallen, and he knows it is because he wants to just give up, to close his eyes and let the Dark take him. He is so tired, more tired than anyone his age has any right to be. He can't even remember how old he is at the moment, can't remember the last time he celebrated a birthday. Or when he even had cake. All Tim remembers is work; taking off his pressed Gieves jacket to replace it with Kevlar and leather, then back again. His mind can rattle off stocks and figures and case numbers even as he lay bleeding out, but he comes up blank as to what the last television show he watched was. He has lost so much and it is becoming harder and harder to find reasons to get up in the morning. 

It's all part of the life, the voice in the back of his head tells him. Bruce does it, Dick does it, so many other heroes do it and they don't complain. Maybe he really is as weak as Damian constantly tells him he is. He should be moving, rolling to get to cover, calling for back up, and treating his wound, not struggling to breath and wishing the hole in his chest was another two or so inches to the left. 

Thinking back on it, maybe he should have talked to someone, but it would have been a weakness, another sign of disappointment. How quickly would Bruce had benched him if Tim had admitted 'I don't care if I die'? Probably before he had finished the sentence. Damian would have lorded it over him, it would have caused Dick and Bruce both so much pain and Tim has never wanted that. He doesn't want to be an inconvenience. 

That thought gets Tim to roll onto his side, inhaling sharply, but weakly, as pain rips through his body. He doesn't want to be an inconvenience, and dying would make him one. They would have to come collect his body, to bury him. There would be grieving and those kind emotions cloud judgment, pull focus away from important things; like Work, the Mission. Really, what it comes down to is Tim is being incredibly self centered for wanting to just give up and let Death take him. Bruce would be disappointed in him if he knew, more upset with Tim for not fighting than he ever would over the fact Tim died. And Bruce would find out the truth, would know Tim didn't die instantly, and would shake his head, telling Dick, “He didn't even try to save himself.” 

And that is how he would be remembered. 

Tim doesn't want that for Bruce or for Dick, for his memory to bring that sort of pain and sadness. The both of them have enough to deal with without the reminder of his failure. 

Tim forces himself to crawl towards the shadows, breaths coming out in wheezing gasps. The cold air stings his throat and he can feel the way his blood is making the floor slick under him, but Tim doesn't stop until he is curled against the safety of the wall. 

His vision is spinning and he knows he made another mistake; he waited too long to move. He's lost far too much blood. Try as he might, Tim can't get his arms to move again; they are like lead and he's not even sure he could lift a feather at this point. He doesn't give up though, because Bruce would somehow know, and Tim keeps silently screaming at his hand to activate his emergency beacon; but the useless limb doesn't listen. 

The edges of his vision become blurry and slowly but all too quickly tunnels to where all Tim can see is his hand in front of him, his fingers twitching fruitlessly. He begins to panic and curses himself because all it does it speed up his already weak heart, pumping blood out of him faster. He struggles to keep his eyes open, not even realizing it when he can't anymore. He begs his body to obey, to send the signal for help. 

He clings to the thought of Bruce and Dick as everything goes silent and cold.

He doesn't want to be a disappointment.

He doesn't want to die.


End file.
